


The Idiot's Guide to Christmas

by CaitN



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitN/pseuds/CaitN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas time at the Warehouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Idiot's Guide to Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mesonyx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mesonyx/gifts).



> Thanks to my beta, wanderingoutlaw. We're just going to pretend that most of the events of last season never took place.

The Idiot's Guide to Christmas

 

1\. You can never have too many decorations.

 

The tree, nine feet at least, stood in the corner of Lena's living room, tiny lights blinking like multi-colored caution signals. Claudia was carefully applying the last of the tinsel when Steve came down the stairs. 

"Nice shirt, Jinksy!" she commented with a big grin.

Steve looked down at the olive colored shirt, screen printed with Johann Maelzel’s Metronome on the front. "Yeah, sure."

Myka smiled and handed him a mug of hot chocolate. "It's kind of Claudia's tradition."

"Yeah, except our shirts show the artifact that almost killed us, not one that saved us." Pete's voice was slightly muffled – he was sitting under the tree, looking for presents with his name, and then shaking them vigorously.

Steve took a sip of his drink, observing the transformation overtaking the living room. Mistletoe – of the non-artifact variety – hung above the hallway entrance, garland graced the stairway and the tops of the windows, and balsam-and-cedar candles flickered on the mantelpiece. 

"Trust me, Claudia and Leena are far from finished," Myka commented, seeming to read Steve's mind.

"I'm still working on the garland." Leena was nestled on the couch, a long strand of popcorn on one side, half-empty popcorn bowl on the other.

"What does Artie think of all this?"

"As long as he doesn't have to put it up or take it down, it's all good," Claudia answered. "Besides, he won't be back from Sioux Falls for at least another," she looked at her watch, "three hours."

"Hey, Myka," Pete called, still under the Christmas tree. "What's green and has wheels?"

Myka sighed. "I have no idea."

"A green bike," Steve guessed.

"No. Grass. I lied about the wheels." Pete laughed 

"You're an idiot." Myka threw some popcorn at him. Trailer barked – in agreement? – from in front of the couch, and wagged his tail. Leena reached down to pat him on the head. Without Artie around, he'd taken to following her everywhere. 

"Don't diss me just because you don't get my humor!" Pete complained in a falsetto.

'Diss me?' Myka mouthed to Claudia, who bit back a smile.

"Hey, what's this?"

"What?"

"I think you dropped an ornament, Claudes."

"I don't drop ornaments, Pete. You probably knocked it off the tree in your juvenile attempts—-"

"Whatever. It’s shiny." 

"Hand it here." Claudia reached down with her left hand, while still placing tinsel with her right.

"Pete, I said—- what the?"

"Is something wrong?" Myka asked.

"Where's Pete?" Claudia craned her head to look around the room.

"Under the tree." 

Claudia climbed down off the step ladder. "Uh, no he’s not."

"He has to be." Frowning, Myka bent down to see better. "Pete, what did you…" She stood back up, shooting a look of dismay at Leena. "He's gone!"

"What do you mean, he's gone?" 

"People don't just disappear."

"Don't touch anything!"

Amid the jumble of voices, Leena abandoned the garland and rushed to kneel beside Myka. 

Claudia and Steve crowded around them. The only thing remaining where Pete had been, was a single silver bell.

When Myka would have picked it up, Leena put a hand on her arm to stop her. 

"What is it?" Myka asked.

"It looks like Chris Van Allsburg's sleigh bell. But I have no idea how it got here."

Steve frowned. "He's the guy who wrote the _The Polar Express_ , right?"

"Among other things," Myka confirmed.

"Steve, get me a pair of gloves and a bag." 

"What exactly does it do?" Claudia asked.

"Basically, you ring it and it sends you to the North Pole."

"Magnetic or geographic?" 

"Magnetic," she answered, but it sounded more like a question.

"I didn't hear it ring," Claudia said, then quickly added, "but in the story only kids could hear it ring. Nevermind."

Steve came back, handing the neutralizer items to Leena. "And how will he get back? Hitch a ride with Santa?" He was only half-joking; he'd learned, in his short time as an agent, just about anything was possible.

"No, it actually involves Robert Peary's sleigh. But Artie's the only one who knows how to use it."

"Do we really have to tell him? Maybe he won’t notice." Claudia smiled.

Myka stood up. "I'll get the snow gear!"

Steve headed for the kitchen. "I'll pack some food."

Leena put on the purple gloves while Claudia held the bag open. "I don't suppose you want to—-"

"No way," Claudia interrupted.

Leena dropped the bell in the bag and squinted against the sparks that flew out. Artifact for sure. Sealing the bag up, she got to her feet. "Hand me the Farnsworth," she ordered with a sigh.

 

2\. It's the holidays: expect the unexpected.

 

"I still can’t believe they let you back here." 

Pete grinned. "The power of the badge, baby."

Myka shook her head. "You don’t have to wait with me, you know. I can board a plane all by myself."

"You’re welcome."

They sat, watching holiday travelers pass by, Pete making up funny (and occasionally stupid) stories of where they were going or where they’d been. 

"I bet that’s your plane," Pete commented, pointing to the United Express jet attached to Gate Four.

"What gave it away? The fact that we’re sitting by Gate Four or the fact that it’s stamped on my ticket?"

"All right, smart ass. Hey, what’s blue and smells like red paint?" 

As much as she tried to ignore him, she gave in and said, "I don’t know."

"Blue paint." Pete chuckled.

"You’re an idiot." 

Still laughing, he turned around and went back to people-watching, while Myka paid attention to the activity on the tarmac: baggage handlers, maintenance crew.

Everything was normal for a few minutes, and then Pete spoke up. "Um, Myka, I’m getting a bad vibe here."

"It was probably that tuna salad sandwich you got from the vending machine. I told you it smelled bad."

"It smelled like tuna. And I don’t think that’s it."

"I’m going home for Christmas," she insisted. "There is no bad vibe."

Pete scanned the terminal. No vengeful Samurai swordsman, no half-dressed Spartan warriors. Just plain old everyday people. "Yeah, you’re probably right. Must be the tuna."

Another stretch of silence was finally broken, this time by Myka. "Hey, Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"There’s a small... goblin looking thing on the plane."

"Sure there is."

She gritted her teeth. "I’m not hallucinating."

"And I suppose William Shatner told you he was out there. Tearing up wires in the wing." Pete laughed.

"Look." Myka was insistent.

Pete turned around and faced the big glass airport wall and the airstrip beyond. "What?"

"He..it... was just there," Myka insisted. "I’m not making this up, Pete. I saw…something."

"I’m sure you think you did." Pete’s tone was placating. "But, honestly, we stayed up late last night, there was eggnog, and—uh, what is that?"

"I told you!" 

There, on the top of the airplane, was a gremlin, elf-like creature, with mottled-green skin, large jagged teeth, and even larger pointed ears. It was dressed in red and green, rags really, more than clothing. The fabric was torn and tattered in places, revealing "equipment" that clearly showed _it_ was a _he_.

"I knew I had a vibe!"

"Gloat later. What is that?"

"I don’t know, but it can’t be good."

"You don’t think—-"

Just then Pete’s jacket pocket chirruped.

"Nooooo." Myka made a face. "I have to go home for Christmas. I need to go home for Christmas. Just once."

Pete took out the Farnsworth and opened it. "Hey, Artie, looking good."

"There’s a ping," Artie said, ignoring him. "Rumpel-you-know-who's spinning wheel." 

"You mean Rumpelstil—-"

Myka quickly slapped her hand over his mouth.

"Don’t say his name!" she whispered into his ear.

Artie added, " _Never_ say his name."

Pete shook off Myka's hand. "Okay, but he’s just a myth right? A fairy tale."

"All myths are based on some kernel of truth. Well, most of them. And probably not the way you think they'd be."

Myka sighed. "Maybe I can get a later flight."

"We’re on it," Pete announced, and closed the Farnsworth on Artie’s protests that he hadn't even told them where the ping was.

"So what do you think? Crate in the cargo hold?"

"I think," Myka said, stuffing her boarding pass into her travel bag and standing up, "I’m not going to make my flight."

3\. Have a Christmas movie marathon.

Pete rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "All right, now it feels like Christmas!"

Claudia sighed. "Why do we have to watch this crap?"

"We all agreed," Artie reminded her, settling in to his favorite chair. "We each pick a holiday movie and we all watch it."

"Hey, I had to sit through the Griswold family Christmas movie."

"You liked it and you know it." Claudia stuck her tongue out at him.

"Yeah, you’re right," Pete admitted. "But this is better." He squeezed in between Myka and Leena on the couch. "Prepare for some butt-kicking… Christmas style!"

"This isn't even a Christmas movie." Claudia wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Are you kidding me?" Pete asked incredulously. "Die Hard is the best Christmas movie ever. 

‘Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs...’" Pete said in a horrible imitation of Bruce Willis.

Claudia threw popcorn at him.

"Oh oh, I almost forgot, I have another joke."

Myka knew she would regret it later, but asked anyway, "What?"

"What's red and bad for your teeth?"

She shook her head. "I don't know."

Nobody else spoke up. 

"A brick!"

Leena groaned and this time, several people threw popcorn at him.

Pete just grinned, picked popcorn off his shirt, and nodded at the television screen. "Shhhhh, it’s starting!"

 

4\. Focus on friends and family.

 

As they all took their place around the dining table, Myka whispered in Pete’s ear, "Why is Artie wearing a Santa hat?" She pulled back and looked accusingly at him. "You used the dreidels didn't you?"

Pete was offended. "No, no, of course not. It wasn't me. It was all Doctor Vanessa's doing."

"They do make a cute couple."

"Are you going to sit down so we can eat," Artie asked. 

"You can dress him up," Pete started.

"But you can't change his personality," Myka finished in a sing-song voice.

Ignoring them, Artie reached for the carving knife.

"I always carve the turkey," Pete complained.

"Don't be ridiculous, you'll poke your eye out," Artie mumbled, holding firm to the knife.

Claudia's eyes widened and she elbowed him in the side. "Hey, did you just make a joke?" 

"Speaking of jokes, I have another one for you."

Despite multiple groans and Myka trying to put her hand over his mouth, he managed to ask, "What's the best way to catch a rabbit?"

"Please pass the stuffing," Steve said.

"Close, but no. You hide behind a bush and make carrot noises."

He flinched as Myka punched him in the arm.

Vanessa smiled and looked around the table. "This is the best Christmas, ever!"

 

THE END


End file.
